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VOL. XIV.
ISTEW BLOOMFIELD, !P.A.S TUESDAY, MARCH 1880.
NO. 131
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THE TIMES.
An Independent Family Newspnper,
IS PUIlLiaUBU EVEHT IUE9D1T BT
F. MOIITIMEU & CO.
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catlon. Beledt PoetiV.
THE DIGNITY OF LABOR.
Those who toll to earn their bread
Need not blush to own their lot
They In noble footsteps tread,
And a claim to live have got.
Toll Is not the wage of sin,
For in Eden work was given
Man was made to work and win
Spoils of earth and bliss of heaven.
He who at the anvil stands,
Striking while the iron glows,
Though he works with horn; bands,
Nobly strikes the ringing blows,
At the loom and in the Held, '
In the shop, and on the soil,
Where men wisely power do wield,
There is dignity in toll.
He who works with tbroblng brain,
Thinks to teacb men how to live
Writes that others good may gain,
Bpeaks to truth fresh nest to give.
He can claim the manly right
With the sons of toll to stand t
He asserts his mental might,
Helps to bless his native land.
He who lives a life of ease,
Idly wasting all his days
Aiming only self to please.
Filled with pride and courting praise
Call him not a noble man,
Such existence Is a shame j
And when ends hlslife's blank span,
Boon will die his empty name.
Labor brings reward and rest,
Educate the latent powers
And he serves his age the best
Who employs his golden hours ;
Working not beyond his might,
Toiling not against his will,
And beneath his master's sight
Glad his mission to fulfill.
All things labor for our good,
He who made us never sleeps ;
He who tills the ground for food,
For his pains a harvest reaps.
None who work need feel ashamed,
As they do what good they can s
'Tis an honor to be named,
As we toll, "A worklngman."
PLAYING THE FOOL.
ONE of the most singular men I ever
met was a private soldier In the
Twelfth New York Infantry, which
regiment was brigaded with the Second
And Third Michigan and Second Massa
chusetts, during the first year or so of
the war. Seen at one time you would
ay that Dan Harrison had blue eyes.
Five minutes after you would make
n oath they were black, as indeed they
were.
Dan also had wonderful control over
his voice. He could mimic the voice of
any man in the brigade. He could bark
like a dog, bray like a mule, whistle like
a bird, and was the wonder of the camp.
On one occasion our wagon master was
asleep in the wagon, with six mules
roped near by. Dan crept behind a
bale of hay and brayed loud and long.
The wagon master awoke and jumped
down and pounded the nearest mule,
growling out as he re-entered the wag.
on;
" There, blast ye, I guess you will feel
humble for a while."
la about two minutes Dan repeated
the words. The voice was so exactly
the same that a dozen of us, who were
hiding near by thought it was the wagon
master again. The latter individual
tuck his bead out, looked around In
great surprise and then said :
" Well, It took that echo a long time
to get around this wagon."
There were yet other reasons why Dan
was considered greater than a manag
rle. He could drop one shoulder three
inches lower than the oilier. He could
walk as if one leg was shorter than the
oilier. He could work his ears like a
horse. He could Cramp his hands until
they seemed to have been drawn all out
of shape by rheumatism. He oould
make It appear that he hud a squint in
either eye, and could raise Ills eye-brows
clear up into his lmlr. He was a fann
er's sou, genial, good hearted and brave,
and he was never tired of doing some
thlngj to amuse us.
Soon after Heintzelninn made his re
connolssance from in front of Alexan
dria down to Centervllle, he sent for
Dan Harrison, and the result of the
interview was that Dan was engaged by
the government as a spy. His curious
physical structure ami his natural cool
ness and bravery fitted him for such
dangerous work, and I may say that
for three years he was accounted the
most successful and daring spy in the
service.
One lonely rainy night In the begin
ning of '02, Dan Harrison set out to
work his way into the Confederate in
trenchments around Centrevllle.charged
to see everything that might be turned
to value to the Federal cause. Dan had
no particular make up except the dress
of a Virginia farmer, and no story to tell
except that he was (when he got there)
within the Confederate lines to secure
some sort of compensation for three
horses seized by a party of Confederate
raiders. Circumstances might alter his
plans and his story, but If so he would
have something else at his tongue's
end.
The spy left the Federal outpost and
headed directly for Centrevllle. He met
with no adventure that night, lay in the
woods all next day, or advanced under
cover of them, and at dark again took
the highway. He knew that danger
lurked in every fence corner for one
who skulked along, and he therefore put
a bold face on the matter and walked
briskly forward, passing quite a number
of negroes and several white men with
out being disturbed. Just then many
slaves were trying to reach the Federal
lines and the fact got Dan into trouble.
About nine o'clock, as Dan stepped
briskly along, a patrol consisting of
three men sprang from behind the
bushes and confronted him, supposing
at first to be a negro, when, finding that
he was a white man, the leader of the
patrol began asking him questions and
insisting on prompt replies. For some
reason Dan thought best to change his
plans. Dropping his left shoulder and
humping up his back, he replied to
their questions in a whining, drawling
voice, in imitation of a half wit.
" Laid for a nigger and captured a
fool 1" growled the leader, as Dan began
to ask silly questions and dance around.
" Well, I suppose we'd better give
him a kick and let him go," remarked
the leader. " He don't know enough to
be a Boldier, and we'd better hurry him
along."
" I don't know about that," remarked
the third man, who had all along been
silent. " I don't know of any fool in
the neighborhood, and we shouldn't let
this chap go until we have had a closer
look at him. Here, you infernal idiot,
do you know any one around here V"
" Missus Brown Missus Brown I"
replied Dan, using the first name that
came in his way.
" Well, it's only a step down thar,"
said the man, " and if she knows him,
it's all right."
So there was a Mrs. Brown close at
hand. No one could have been more
surprised than the spy, and he feared
that he had gotten himself in a bad
scrape. There was no. chance for him
but to go along, and go he did, ampsing
the men for a quarter of a mile with
strange antics and silly talk. Mrs.
Brown was a widow, living in a com
fortable though small farm house, and
Dan was marched straight to her door.
She was a woman about fifty years of
age, with a kind face and motherly
ways.
" Widder Brown," began the leader
of the party, as he put his hand on the
spy, " we captured this fool down the
road thar. He acts and talks like a fool,
but we want to be sure he isn't tricking
us. He says he knows you. If you
know him that's all we want."
" Missus Brown know Tommy,"
chuckled Dan, as he boldly entered the
house and sat down and took the finally
cat on his lap.
The widow's vanity was a littla bit
flattered, In the first place, that sho bad
been called upon to Identify a stranger,
and in the next place she would lose her
prestige if she failed to do so.
" Mebbe I know him, mebbe I do,"
she replied, ns she looked around for
her spectacles. " Somehow or other I
alius know all the fools going, and most
of 'em comes around here for vittels.
Now, then I'll look at him."
She put on her spectacles, took the
candle in her hand, and Dan was
scrutinized for a long minute. He looked
up In her face and grinned and
chuckled, though his heart was In his
mouth.
" She don't know him," whispered
one of the men.
The widow overheard it, and now she
was on her mettle. Walking slowly
across the room to put down the caudle
and her 'spectacles, she turned and
said :
" Yes, he's a fool, aud you are bigger
fools for stopping 1"
"Then you know him 5"' asked the
leader.
" I raythur think eo! His name Is
Tommy, and he lives somewhere around
Fairfax. He's been here mor'n a dozen
times."
" Didn't propose matrlmony,dldhe V"
asked one of the men.
"No I" she snapped, "but if he had
he'd have stood a better chance than
white men who hide in fence corners to
capture niggers I"
So saying she slammed the door on
ihem and went away. She sat down at
the table and looked across at Dan, and
presently mused :
" Yes, he's a fool, and those men had
no business hauling him around no
mptter whether I know him or not.
I guess he's hungry and tired, and I'll
give him something to eat and send htm
to bed."
Dan "played the fool" to perfection,
and when he had eaten, the woman had
a real motherly interest In him. She
guided him up stairs, showed him the
bed he was to occupy, and then went
down with the light saying :
" Fools can see in the dark as well as
by daylight, and you might set the
house on flie."
The spy was out of the" scrape in one
sense, and yet he was in trouble. He
Wanted to reach and pass the Confeder
ate out-posts before daybreak. If he
remained in the house over night he
might encounter people next day who
might want him more fully identified.
But how was he to leave V
The chamber was a two story affair,
all in one room, and a window at either
end. One of these would let the spy
out. He crept across the floor and tried
the sash of one. It was old and shaky,
and yet he worked at it for a long ten
minutes, and gave up in despair. The
sashes were not nailed, but so warped
that to get them up or down would
make noise enough to arouse everybody
in the house. The sash in the other
window could be ralsed.but Dan's fingers
had scarcely touched it when two or
three dogs, which seemed to be kenneled
directly below, commenced a furious
barking. Escape by that way was cut
off.
After a moment's thought Dan decid
ed to wait until the house grew quiet,
and then descend the stairs aud go out
by the front door. He might have to
wait for an hour or more, and he there
fore threw himself on the bed. He had
scarcely got settled when he beard a
commotion down stairs and the heavy
tread of a man. Creeping out of bed
and putting his ear to the floor, be soon
made out that the woman's son had
returned home after a considerable
absence within the Confederate lines.
Dan listened for a long time, catching
words enough to keep the run of the
conversation, and when he heard them
both moving across the floor he slipped
into bed again. It was well he did so.
The stair door opened, a light appeared,
and as mother and son ascended, she
said :
" Of course he's a fool I Do you think
I've got so old that I can't tell an Idiot
when I see him V " '
." Well, these are suspicious times,"
muttered the son In reply, and both
advanced to the bed.
Dan seemed to be fast asleep. One
hand,all eramped up, was on the quilt In
plain fight, and be had his face screwed
up until the lonesome look ought to
have melted a heart of stone.
" There ! don't he look like a fool V'
whispered the mother.
" He may be one, but It won't do any
harm in let the putrol take him into our
outposts," answered the son, and both
descended the stairs.
Daa must get out of that. Not by
way of the window, but down stairs and
out of the front door. The patrol could
not be far off; he had no time to spnre.
Hastily resuming his garments, he
softly descended the stair. While wait
ing at the door he heard the son go out,
and after two or three minutes he softly
opened the door.
No one was lu the room. Tiptoeing
across it, he opened the front door and
stepped, out but only to stand face to face
with the son, a young man of about 25
aud of good muscular development. For
what seemed to be a long minute they
looked into eaoh other's face. Then the
Confederate said :
" Throw up your hands, mister Yank
the game Is up I"
"I just come to bid you goodnight,"
coolly answered Dan, and he made a
rush.
The Confederate did not follow, be
cause he realized that Dan was running
directly for the approaching patrol. He
was under full headway when he met
them, or saw that he was going to run
into them, and swerved aside.
"Shoot the Yankee 1 kill him 1 kill
him!" shouted the Confederate at the
house, and the patrol opened fire in re
sponse. Dan was not over 30 feet away, and
the gloom of the night saved him from
being riddled. One bullet struck him in
the left arm, just below the elbow, in
flicting a painful wound, but the others
went wild and he soon distanced pur
suit. Dan did not get into Centrevllle
that time.
The Fate of the Apostles,
ALL THE Apostles were assaulted by
the enemies of their Master. They
were called to seal their doctrines with
their blood, and nobly did they bear the
trial. Schumacher says :
" St. Matthew suffered martyrdom by
being slain with a sword at a distant
city of Ethiopia.
St. Mark expired at Alexandria, after
having been cruelly dragged through
the streets of that city.
St. Luke was hanged upon an olive
tree in the classic land of Greece.
St. John was put in a cauldron of boil
ing oil, but escaped death in a miracul
ous manner,and was afterward banished
to Patmos.
. St. Peter was crucified at Home with
his head downwards.
St. Jnmes, the Greater, was beheaded
at Jerusalem.
St. James, the Less, was thrown from
a lofty pinnacle of the Temple, and then
beaten to death with a fuller's club.
St. Bartholomew was flayed alive.
St. Andrew was bound to a cross
whence he preached to his pe rsecutors
until he died.
St. Thomas was run through the body
with a lance at Coromandel, in the East
Indies.
St. Jude was shot to death with ar
rows, i
St. Matthias was first stoned and then
beheaded.
St. Barnabas, of the Gentiles, was
stoned to death by the Jews, at Salonlca.
St. Paul, after various tortures and
persecutions was at length beheaded at
Rome by the Emperor Nero."
Such was the fate of the Apostles,
according to traditional statements ; and
though we cannot authenticate them
all, we at least know that the hatred of
the world to these men and their teach
ings was sufficient to render the accounts
not very improbable.
Honor Your Business.
IT IS a good sign when a man is proud
of his calling. Yet nothing is more
common than to hear men finding fault
constantly with their particular busi
ness, ami deeming themselves unfortu
nate because fastened to it by the
necessity of gaining a livelihood. In
this spirit men fret aud laboriously
destroy all their comfort in the work;
or they change Utelr business and go on
miserably, shifting from one thing to
another, till. the grave or the poor-house
gives tli-em a fast grip. But while occa
sionally a man falls in life because he is
not In 'the plaoe fitted for his peculiar
talents it happens ten times oftener
that failure results from neglect and
even contempt of an honest business.
A nma should put his heart into every
thing that he does. There is not a
profession that has not its peculiar cares
aud vexations. No man will escape
annoyance by changing business. No
mechanical business Is altogether agree
able. Commerce, in its endless varieties,
is affected like all other human pursuits,
with trials, unwelcome duties, and
spirit-tiring necessities. It is the very
wantonness of folly for a man to search
out the frets and burdens of his calling,
and give his mind every day to a con
sideration of them. They belong to
human Ijfe. They are inevitable. Brood
ing, them, only gives them strength.
On the other hand, a man has power
given to him to shed beauty and pleas
ure upon the homeliest toll, if he is wise.
Lft a man adopt his business and Iden
tify it with his life, and cover it with
pleasant associations ; for God has given
us Imaginations not alone to make some
poets, but to enable all men to beautify
homely things. Heart-varnlsh will
cover up innumerable evils and defects.
Look at the good things. Except your
lot as a man does a piece of rugged
ground, and begin to get out the rocks
and roots, to deepen the mellow soil, to
enrich and plant it. There is something
in the most forbidding avocation around
which a man may twine pleasant fan
ciesout of whioh he may develop an
honest pride.
A Dutchman's Views.
YELL, if dat aiu'd de blaimdest gouu
try vat ever vas ; de fellers dat llfes
in dig gountry, dey tink a Dietoherman
don't got some sense, dey ask de fool
ishest questions I efer seen. Ven I goes
down to my vork de oder tay mine boss
he says to me, " Hans, dls vos von very
vet mornin'." Now, don'd I know dot
vas von vet mornin ? He tinks I don'd
know if it rain or sohnow. Don'd I
valk mit dot rain ' Couldn't I tole if It
vas vet V
Den, de next too, he says, " Hans, dls
vas von very hot tay." Now, if dot
vasn'tde biggest fool question I efer
heard. Vasn't I vorkin' met de hot sun
all tay, and he vas valkin' around, his
hande mit his pockets, und sayin',
" Hurry, up, poys, hurry up, poys,"
und den he says, " Hans, it was hot."
I don'd answer dot foolish question at
all. If he don't got some sense mit his
questions I don'd answer, dot's vat's de
matter. I goes oud to schovel de schnow
mit mine sldevalk off, and efry feller
vot comes along, he say, " Hans, dot
vas a goot pisness for you." Pretty soon
I gits mad, und say, " if some of you
fellers don'd got some sense mit your
questions you petter mind mine own
pisness." Efery feller tink a Deitcher
man is a fooler.
I goes down mit a shoe store to puy
myself a pair of poots. " Veil," I say,
" Mister, dot poot vas too pig." Den he
sticks his face up mit mine, und he says,
" Hans, dot poot schrlnk awful; you
gits dot poot some schmailer as dot, you
could no wear um." I dries on some
more poots, und den I say, " Doo poot
is too schmall." Deri he gits oxclted,
und be lay his hand mit mine shoulder
on, und he vlspers mit mine ear, und he
say, " Hans, I tole you dot poot stretch
fearful. You gits dot poot some plgger
as dot, I pet you five hundred tollar you
no keep um on your feets."
Veil, I take um. De next tay I no git
umon. I takes um back, und he say,
"Hans, you must know your own pis
ness." Veil, I tinks I know mine own
pisness in some shoe stores after dot
O A family is like an equipage.
First, the father, the draught-horse;
next the boys, the wheels, for they are
always running around ; then the girls,
they are surrounded by fellows; the
baby occupies the lapboard ; and the
mother well what's a wagon without a
tongue, anyhow.
3 He that knows a little of the World'
will admire it enough to fall down and
worship It, but he that knows it most
will most despise it. Cotton.